The Only One
by DoomedSometimes
Summary: Norma Bates muses about her life, comparing her painful past to her happy present in the company of Alex Romero, the one man who has made it possible.


I wake up early. Slowly open my eyes and listen to the morning sounds. One of them is of someone's breathing, although not my own. I look to the left side of my bed to where my husband is still fast asleep. Alex Romero. My husband. My third husband. I can barely believe it myself. After the last one I swore I'd never get married again. I see his beautiful face, the hard lines of his jaw, and even though his features are strong and linear, the peaceful way he sleeps make me smile. His long eyelashes rest easily against his closed eyelids and I want nothing more than to wake him with kisses and have my way with him, but I let him sleep. He arrived home late last night. Something to do with a domestic disturbance that turned violent, that's what he said when he called to tell me he'd be late, and today is his day off so I look one last time at his sleeping form and quietly slip out of bed.

I go downstairs and while the coffee machine is making its familiar sounds I ponder about my feelings and the latest events of my life. I'm 40 years old. I have been in love before, or so I thought. I have been desired and I have desired in return. But now, at 40, I'm feeling as if this is the first time that I've ever been in love, really in love. Also, it occurs to me that this is the first time I've felt what it's like to be really loved by a man, no conditions or expectations, just loved. One month ago I married the Sheriff of White Pine Bay and then I fell in love with him.

Sipping my morning cup of coffee and looking out my kitchen window I think back to when I was a little girl. I remember hearing people say I was pretty. Random adults, my father's acquaintances, telling him as we walked by; "Pretty little girl you have there. She's gonna be a heartbreaker." I would listen to them say. I didn't know what that meant. Being pretty. It wasn't until I got older that I learned that my so called beauty sometimes had advantages. I learned how to get my way by batting my eyes or flashing a smile. I still do and I'm a grown woman now. I should feel ashamed. Of course with Alex it was different. From the very beginning. I couldn't get even a smile out of him, no matter how much I tried, no matter how much I flirted. That time, here in my kitchen, I teased him about his face being paralyzed. Deep inside I basked in the knowledge that I, pretty little Norma Louise, had finally made Alex Romero smile.

What I did learn from a young age was that I was not the heartbreaker people would tell my dad I'd be, but that most of the times; it was my heart the one that was being broken. Of course my father, the first man I wanted and needed to love me unconditionally, was the man I could never make happy. He was always distant and angry. As a little girl I used to try to get a hug, or to climb on his lap, and I was always being turned away. One time, when I was around 8 or so, he yelled at me and pushed me so hard I fell to the floor. I cried so much. Caleb came to the rescue. Ah my first knight in shining armor. He consoled me while tears ran out of my eyes.

"Why daddy doesn't love me?" I had asked him. "I don't know. But I love you, Norma Louise. I love you and I will protect you," he would answer me. He protected me from our father's wrath but failed to protect me from himself, and his brotherly love turned into a possessive one and he ended up not only hurting my body, but my trust in him forever.

I start to get sad at the memory when I hear his footsteps and almost at the same time feel his strong arms hugging my waist from behind. He presses his face into the side of my neck; I feel his light stubble, reach my arm up to caress the side of his face. He kisses my neck.

"Good morning, beautiful." I hear him say and I turn around and look into his deep brown eyes.

"Good morning, husband." I say and he smiles the smile that makes my knees go weak. "Why are you up? I thought you were going to sleep till late."

"I missed you."

Now I'm the one smiling. We start to kiss slowly, but soon we are kissing each other with all the passion and vehemence of two lovers who found each other after being an eternity apart. He takes my breath away, but I don't stop, I won't stop. He is alive and awake. I might need caffeine to jump start my day, but my husband, my Alex, is a morning person. Alert and ready for anything as soon as he opens his eyes. Must be all the Marines and police training I think. And he loves morning sex. I learned that fact after just a couple weeks of sharing a bed with him. As if he was reading my mind he picks me up and sits me on top of the kitchen counter and I squeal in delight.

He starts rubbing his hands up my thighs and my blue robe parts easily. He looks down at his hands touching my now spread thighs. He touches the scar. He now knows what happened that day with Caleb. I told him everything. He follows my ugly scar with the tip of his index finger and then bends down and kisses it. I put my hands on his hair, keep him there. I feel his tongue come out and lick my scar, all the way up, until he's mere inches from my center. He looks up and the total adoration I see in his eyes makes me want to cry. I somehow manage not to. Don't want to ruin the moment.

"You know I will protect you. Always." he says.

He's my true protector.

And unlike my brother, I know with certainty he will never become the one who puts me in danger.

There's nothing more to say so I nod. And with a few tugs and pulls, our sleeping clothes are moved out of the way, just enough so he can take me here and now. I feel all of him, hard and strong, his sculpted chest, his biceps and arms that hold me, his mouth that devour me, his dick that claims me. And I never felt more protected in my life, here on top of my kitchen counter, while my husband takes me and makes me whimper and moan and shake and climax in the most intense way. He just tells me I'm beautiful, and soft, and oh so tight and when his climax finally arrives he says my name, only my name, repeatedly, and I love him for that.

"Do you want some coffee?" I offer him after we both have regained our breaths and we laugh. We hug and he puts me down and he drinks his coffee and we make non important plans for the day ahead.

Few hours later I'm deep into cleaning the many family photos that are scattered around the house. I stumble upon one of Dylan when he was younger. My first born. The baby who came wrapped in so many things: shame, fear, secrets, and lies. I was already seeing John, the tall handsome boy from school, who aside from Caleb was my only friend. He had a gentleness of spirit and a nice soft voice that made me like him so much. As soon as I suspected I was pregnant I slept with him too and then lied to him. I'm not proud of that but I needed to get out of my house. I needed to get away from my brother. We were happy for a while, in our newlyweds' teenage dream, and then Dylan came. My perfect baby with 10 fingers and 10 toes, blond and blue eyed like me. Never like Caleb, never like him. But the dream didn't last. "You're the worst cook in the world!" John yelled at me once and his scream made Dylan start crying too. We both cried. We stopped being happy after that. Then I met Sam, a few years older than me, with more experience and maturity, and who didn't seem bothered by the fact I had a small child. To my 19 year old self he seemed like the perfect man and I cheated on John with him. He left me of course. We divorced and then I married Sam.

The smell from the kitchen makes me come back to the present. I put down Dylan's picture and go to check on the lunch I had started making. Alex had been helping clean the mess in the basement and I yell at him to come upstairs for lunch. He comes into the kitchen looking a little amused.

"What?" I ask and I realize it sounded more annoyed than I intended it to be. I smile to try and defuse any tension I might have created between us. But I don't see any in him. His eyes sparkle.

"I just find it funny. But you don't have to scream to get my attention." he says with a smile.

"I'm sorry. I'm just used to having to call after the boys. When they were little they never came right after I called out for them and then they grew up but I guess the practice stuck with me. And this house is so big, I feel like nobody hears me if I don't scream," I offer as an explanation.

"I do. I always hear you." I want to kiss him but instead I start putting our food on the table.

Meat loaf, mashed potatoes, fresh greens. Apple pie for dessert. We make nice easy conversation while we eat and he even helps himself to seconds. "You are the best cook in the world, Norma." And he doesn't know that because my first husband hated my cooking I vowed that I will learn for my second, but that he never appreciated my cooking even when I made the biggest effort. So I feel a lump form in my throat, and I try to swallow it with a bite of food, and I look at him and say "Thank you."

"Nobody has ever cooked for me. Certainly not as good as you do. I'm going to gain weight if you keep this up." He says while he cuts two pieces; one for him, one for me, of the apple pie I made earlier.

"I'd still love you when you get fat." He looks at me with fake anger at my bad joke, and we both laugh effortlessly.

By the time I finish doing the dishes and go looking for him, I find him asleep on the sofa. The giant TV is on, some game is playing, but he's dead to the world. Must be a mixture of the long night and waking up so early plus the food I fed him, and he is down for the count. I think about how this is the only thing he has in common with my second husband, falling asleep while watching TV. But really there's no comparison. I know Alex is just tired right now. Sam used to fall asleep on the couch every day and he hated if any of us woke him up.

Our marriage lasted many years, but by the time Norman was three, everything between us had changed. He was drunk most of the time, angry at everything and everyone and worst of all, violent towards me and the boys, though he never hit them, that was only reserved for me. I hated him but I was also too afraid of him to leave. I tried once. But he found us before I could leave. Made me pay for it dearly with one of the most painful and horrible moments of my life. Sam had a way of taking a piece of my self-worth and confidence every time he pushed me down into the mattress, every time I stifled my cries into the pillows. He had done it many times. He was so rough, but that day, when he forced himself on me I knew I had to get away, someday, somehow. It took me too long to finally being able to do it. I thought I'd end up dead at his hands. He's the one that ended up dead.

I realize I'm just standing here in my living room looking at Alex sleep while my mind had gone back in time to the very unpleasant and harrowing memories of my life with Sam. My only source of happiness during those years was Norman. My beautiful boy, my hopes and dreams, my second chance at motherhood. My broken boy who is now in a mental hospital. I sigh in defeat. I don't want to think about Sam anymore. I move to leave but the floor creaks a little and Alex awakes.

"I'm sorry." I say and quickly go to him. I sit next to him but he makes space for me so I can lie next to him on the sofa. I put my head on his chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart. He hugs me to him and grabs my hand. I feel enveloped in his body. I don't ever want to move. He suddenly feels the little fading scar on the palm of my right hand. The one from the night Keith Summers… The night I became a murderer. He touches it, surely remembering that late night we met, how I lied then about how I got the small wound. But now he knows.

"I'm glad he's dead," he says surprising me. My breath hitches and he feels it. Senses my unease. "He deserved it for what he did to you. I only wish I could've killed him myself."

My protector.

He would do the dirty job for me. Unlike Shelby; who was a wolf dressed as a sheep, a criminal and a pervert behind his pretty face and upholder of the law façade, Alex will not ask for anything in return. He wouldn't make me feel I owed him something. I know Alex would kill a man for me without hesitation; in fact he has, even if his actions will later haunt him.

My very own hit man.

I may be a killer out of anger. He is a killer out of love. His love for me. It scares and excites me at the same time. I don't want to think about it. I lean my face towards his and kiss him, thank him; with my kisses, with my love.

The afternoon sun is coming from the window and I feel warm, more from his kisses than from the sun. The space on the sofa is not much for both so he asks me to sit up. I think our making out session is over but he has other ideas. He insists that I sit on his lap. He looks at me with pleading eyes and I see he's already hard against his jeans. I comply and straddle him. We kiss for long minutes as his hands find the buttons of my shirt, undoes them. I take off his black t-shirt and start working on his zip and fly. He takes off my shirt completely but doesn't remove my bra. He's happy just having me on top of him for now.

"You're so beautiful." He says while caressing my shoulders, my collarbone, and my still covered breasts.

"Well, you're beautiful too." I say while I kiss his face, he closes his eyes and I kiss his eyelids, his eyelashes that are longer than mine. "You have to tell me your secret, Alex." But when he's about to ask what do I mean, I kiss him. I lick his bottom lip and he moans into my open mouth. He grabs my bottom lip with his teeth, and when he releases it, soothes away any pain with his tongue.

I can't wait any longer. I stand up so suddenly he follows me with his arms, he thinks I'm leaving, but as soon as he sees my hands go under my skirt, his expression changes and I see pure desire and lust. I take off my panties, slowly, letting him see my actions. I keep my skirt on, so he really can't see much else except few glimpses of my thighs, but his eyes follow the movements of my hands all the way from my hips, down my legs to my ankles, where my panties end up before I kick them aside. Then he looks up to my face. I give him a nod towards his pants, he quickly understand and sets himself free. I lick my lips at the sight of him and straddle him again. It doesn't take long before he's all the way inside me. I arch my back and he holds me by my shoulders, keeping me close to him. I move up and down, crash my hips to his. I kiss him; swallow his grunts and moans, the sound of my name on his lips. "Norma, oh God, Norm…" And we ride the waves of our pleasure. He puts one hand under my skirt, where we are joined, and when he finds my clit is like a thousand volts of electricity go right through me. I start climaxing, hard, long, an endless series of delicious shock waves. When he's close he grabs my hips, digs his fingers on my skin, then moves his hands to grab my ass and yells out my name. We end up spent, me draped against his chest, both panting like we ran a marathon.

We're now down in the basement; making space for the million projects I want to embark on. I've already moved the sewing machine upstairs and I've been making new curtains for the whole house. Alex is helping me with the small garden I want to plant outside.

Last week we went to the store to get everything we needed. We were looking at seeds; some fruits, some flowers. Alex said I should also plant flowers since he knew I loved fresh flowers in the house. He was putting some things in the shopping cart when I suddenly looked up and saw George. He was coming into the same lane we were in, he hadn't seen me and I had no idea what to do. I knew Alex and he probably knew each other from town anyway but I felt a meeting of the three of us would be awkward.

George finally saw me and did a double take. He probably wasn't expecting to see me in this fancy home improvements store, much less in the company of Alex Romero, the Sheriff.

"Hi, Norma," he said and at that moment Alex stopped what he was doing to look at who was speaking to me.

"Hi, George," I replied with as much courtesy I could manage. God knows what his sister had told him after our last encounter at the supermarket last year and I didn't want a repeat scene here. But he looked at Alex and extended his hand politely to him.

"Hello, George Heldens." He said in his perfect educated manner.

"Hi, Alex Romero. And I think you know my wife, Norma Bates."

I had to suppress my smile at that. Marking his territory. I have to say, after how things had ended between George and me, I wasn't the least mad at Alex for making him know I was his wife now.

"Yes, I heard. Congratulations. To both of you." He said the last part looking at me. We said quick goodbyes and he left. I thought nothing more was going to be said about the encounter, until I heard Alex say: "That's the guy you were dating last year, isn't he?" without accusation or jealousy. Just a fact.

"Well, dating is a very big word. We just went out once. Twice, actually." I said remembering the night I spent at his house. "But we were so different. He didn't get me."

"What he didn't get? That you are a beautiful, smart, complicated woman?"

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe the complicated part got too complicated for him. But there were also other things. He's from such a good family, he went to good schools, he's so refined… I mean, I'm not saying that you are not from a good family or refined, or well… what I'm saying is that I'm not, and I felt that he was too perfect, too unreal, and that what he wanted from me was not who I am." I gave as an explanation.

"Well, he may come from a good family and gone to good schools, and you're right, I am not refined," he started saying and I was about to interrupt him but he kept going on. "But I know one thing. I'm the luckiest man in all of White Pine Bay."

I laugh to myself now remembering that day because I basically had to drag him out of that store, he started kissing me there, in the middle of aisle 7 in between the peonies and orchids, and his hands started roaming all over my body and I had to remind him we were in a public place. We had never paid for stuff more quickly and gotten out of a store faster. I think we also gave half the town of White Pine Bay quite the PDA show that day.

He notices I'm smiling too much and comes closer to me. "What are you smiling about?"

"Oh, just remembering last week at the store. When we ran into George."

"Ah, yes. Your ex-boyfriend."

"He is not my ex-boyfriend. Unless Rebecca is, actually, your ex-girlfriend." I say with a serious tone and a raised eyebrow for good measure.

"Fine."

We look at each other. We may be a little jealous right now but we're not going to get into a fight about it. So we reach for each other, and hug each other and whisper sweet nothings into each other's ears.

The living room is quiet. We're in maybe our fourth or fifth drink by now. The day has been long but productive. We have accomplished a lot in the house, even with the extracurricular, hmmm, physical activities of the day. Alex went to Dylan's room to get a bottle of whiskey he had brought with him the first day he moved in, and we kicked back to relax. I'm feeling a little bit tipsy now, and utterly happy. Such a different feeling than when I stumbled into James' house that night; drunk, feeling hurt and betrayed by my own sons, pissed off by that man at the bar, and tired of trying to keep my family together. James, who slept with me even though he said it was not the smartest thing to do, looking back, he was right. But I needed an escape and I seduced him. He didn't say no. I was so drunk I don't remember much, except for a few sloppy kisses and a few unremarkable thrusts, it was all over too soon and I didn't care. The next morning I got out of there as fast as I could.

Alex didn't sleep with me when I was drunk, that night on our first date. It's funny now to think that was our first date. After we had gotten married. We always did things backwards. I was a little hurt that he refused my silent offer that night, but I also felt hopeful. Maybe this time, I was with a man that would care enough about me, and not only his own needs. I was right about that. Out first time together was loving and passionate, and he paid close attention to me and wouldn't stop until I was completely satisfied. It was also nice to prove my suspicion that he would react to my touch the same way I was reacting to his.

We finish the movie, our dinner plates are soaking in the sink, and I announce my wish to go take a bath. Alex offers to do the dishes so I can go ahead. I thank him with a kiss and go upstairs.

I've been soaking in the tub for I don't know how long when I hear a soft knock on the bathroom door.

"Norma? Are you done? Is everything okay?" he asks from the other side and I can hear his concern.

"Yes! Come on in." He tentatively opens the door, unsure, until he sees that I am in fact alright, just relaxing in the warm water. I smile lazily at him and he tries to return the smile but somehow fails. He looks high strung. Maybe because he's trying to look at my face but instead his eyes keep lowering over my body submerged in the almost clear water. I ask him to hand me a towel. He moves to retrieve it and I rise from the tub. When he turns around towel in hand, he stops, his eyes like a deer caught in headlights. I'm mortified for a second or two, until I realize his pupils have dilated, his breathing is faster than normal, and his eyes are roaming all over my naked, wet, and rapidly cooling body. His eyes go slowly from my breasts, to my stomach, to between my legs, and back up again. I smile and snap my fingers at him. He gets out of his trance and comes over with the towel, gives me his hand to help me out of the tub, and wraps me in the towel and his arms.

"Jesus! Norma." He sounds breathless.

"What? It's not like you haven't seen me naked before." I say next to his ear and I hear my own voice has gone an octave lower. He moves his head back to look me in the eyes.

"I have. Just not today."

Realization hits. He's right. We've made love twice today but he had yet to see me completely naked. "Well," I begin. "Do you want to take a quick shower and meet me in the bedroom?"

Ten minutes later I'm in bed waiting for him. My thoughts go back to everything I've been contemplating today. All the men in my life, none of them important now. Only Dylan and Norman will always be a part of me and my life, wherever and whenever they are. And now, Alex. My third husband, the last one. Because there will be no more, I'm sure of that. The only man who has shown me that love comes with acceptance and respect. The man that has brought me a lifetime of happiness in only a month. The man that has been an undeniable part of my life ever since I set foot in this town. The man who is doing the impossible: with each one of his kisses he's curing my wounds; with each one of his hugs he's healing my scars.

He comes into the bedroom interrupting my ruminations. He's only wearing a towel hung low on his hips. I can see his hipbones, the wings of an angel.

My very own damaged, fallen angel.

I'm damaged too. We make a perfect pair. He lets the towel fall to the ground and stands in his naked glory before me. My breathing is already shallow. He comes to bed, reaches for me, and as soon as he kisses me and touches me under the covers he realizes I'm completely nude too.

"Why bother getting dressed?" I tell him with a shrug of my shoulders.

"I love how our minds work." He says smiling.

Our encounter tonight is slow and languid. The lower half of our bodies under the covers. Sighs and whimpers escaping us. Hands touching, lips kissing, hips moving… agonizingly slow.

"You're so beautiful. You're my beautiful angel. " He says and my throat closes with the need to cry.

"You're the only one." I manage to say between sobs and moans. I'm so close.

'You're the last one. No one even compares to you.' I think but don't say out loud.

"I love you, Alex." I say with the last coherent thought I have. And then I come. I explode in his arms; I die a thousand little deaths, all of them with him in my mind, deep inside my body, forever engraved in my soul. I'm free falling. But he catches me. I'm never alone. And then he follows me, to this beautiful metaphorical death, and he comes inside of me, and somehow it occurs to me we are creating life.

"This is my secret. I love you too, Norma."


End file.
